


Pizza Night

by Hagar



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Background Barbara/Strickler, Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Community: purimgifts, Found Family, Gen, Pizza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-15 18:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18078401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hagar/pseuds/Hagar
Summary: Barbara’s living room is invaded.





	Pizza Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CenozoicSynapsid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CenozoicSynapsid/gifts).



The extra tension that the doorbell’s ring had put in Barbara’s shoulders eased out when she found Toby on the door’s other side.

The pizza boxes he was balancing, though -  _ those _ she eyed warily.

Toby grinned, and asked: “Did you order pizza?”

“No, I did not. Which,” Barbara stepped aside from the doorway and let him in, “I think you already know.”

“Yup,” Toby cheerfully confirmed as he stepped in. The pizza boxes wobbled as he moved, but did not fall.

Barbara closed the door. “That is an awful lot of pizza for two humans.”

No sooner had she said that, than someone rang the doorbell. 

Again.

“Might as well leave that open, Dr. L,” Toby said.

Barbara shot him a Look but, nevertheless, opened the door.

Again.

“Hello,” Ofelia Nuñez said.

“We come bearing wine,” Javier added, helpfully holding out the bottle. 

“For those of us who are not underaged,” Ofelia supplied.

Given that a party was - evidently - about to occur in her living room, wine sounded like a terrific idea. Barbara stepped aside from the doorway. “Do come in. Out of curiosity, how many more people are we expecting?”

“Just the Scotts,” Javier said.

“And NotEnrique,” Toby added. “As he’s most definitely  _ not _ babysitter material.”

Javier raised his hands in mock-surrender, as if assigning NotEnrique to babysitter duty had really been a possibility. “He’s picking up a different choice of dinner.”

Footsteps sounded from above, then green feet came down the stairs, followed by a tall - and green - person. “What’s all this racket?”

Toby waved - mercifully, not with the hand already holding a slice of pizza. “Hi, Professor Strickler!”

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

Walt took in the scene, then looked at Barbara and asked: “Are we being invaded?”

There was an undertone to his voice that suggested he was willing to chase the party away on her behalf, if she wasn’t up to it. Barbara entertained that possibility for a moment, but ultimately shrugged and said: “They seem friendly enough.”

“Very well then. Tea?”

“Perhaps after dinner.”

Toby nodded vigorously.

Having resigned herself to the role of a hostess, Barbara told Claire’s parents: “Please, have a seat. I’ll go get us some glasses.”

“Is that red or white?” Walt asked.

“Red,” Javier replied.

“Well, I only have one kind of wine glasses, so I hope it’s the right one!” Barbara called back from the kitchen.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Javier called after her. “Right, cariña?”

“Yes, dear,” Ofelia replied, in the tone of one who did not expect it to be ‘fine’ at all.

Barbara couldn’t see the other woman’s face, but the thought of Ofelia’s likely expression nevertheless made her lips curve into a smile. Then Barbara looked at the four glasses she pulled out and went back to the doorway separating the kitchen from the living room. “Do trolls drink red wine?”

“I never had reason to find out,” Walt replied.

“Do you want to?” she asked.

He considered that for a moment, then said: “Yes.”

Barbara nodded, and went back into the kitchen to locate a tray on which to carry all the glasses, as well as the bottle opener.

There was a knock on the door. 

Again.

“It’s open!” she called out. It was  _ probably _ the Scotts; and if it wasn’t, then Walt was right there.

From the kitchen, Barbara could hear but not see. First she heard the door open, then Ofelia saying: “Detective Scott,” and the man replying “For the thousandth time, Ofelia--” before being cut by Javier saying: “I think my wife was trying to be funny. Hello, Aaron, Tammi. Darci.”

Barbara added two more glasses to the tray, then carefully headed back to the living room. When she got there, Walt was the one holding the bottle; no sooner had she set the tray on the coffee table than the  _ pop! _ of the bottle opening sounded.

Walt poured a little into the first glass, sniffed it, then poured a generous serving into the next glass and handed it to her.

Barbara accepted the glass without protest. She’d been tense all summer. Her shoulders  had relaxed a little since the invasion into her living room had begun, but that just meant that she could  _ feel _ how sore they were. Before that, they’d been so tense she couldn’t feel them at all.

Who had come up with the idea of hosting a pizza night in her too-quiet house? Barbara eyed the four human adults and two teenagers, but couldn’t decide. Whoever they were, though, Barbara owed them chocolate. She needed the reminder: just because Jim was gone, didn’t mean that she was alone.

 

 

 


End file.
